The perpetrators were Chrysler plant superintendent Ronald Ebens and his stepson, Michael Nitz. The lenient sentencing of these two men in a plea bargain generated public outrage over the murder attack, which included blows to the head from a baseball bat and possessed attributes consistent with hate crimes. Many of the layoffs in Detroit's auto industry, including Nitz's in 1979, had been due to the increasing market share of Japanese automakers, leading to allegations that Vincent Chin received racially charged comments attributing to the layoffs while being beaten.[2]

The case became a rallying point for the Asian American community, and Ebens and Nitz were put on trial for violating Chin's civil rights. Because the subsequent Federal prosecution was a result of public pressure from a coalition of many Asian ethnic organizations, Vincent Chin's murder is often considered the beginning of a pan-ethnic Asian American movement.[3]

Throughout most of the 1960s, Vincent grew up along Woodward Avenue in Highland Park. In 1971, after the elderly Hing was mugged, the family moved out to Oak Park, Michigan. Vincent graduated from Oak Park High School in 1973, going on to study at Control Data Institute. At the time of his death, he was employed as an industrial draftsman at Efficient Engineering, an automotive supplier, as well as working weekends as a waiter at the former Golden Star restaurant in Ferndale, Michigan. He was engaged, and the wedding date set for June 27, 1982.[4]

On the night of June 19, 1982, a fight occurred at the Fancy Pants strip club on Woodward Avenue in Highland Park where Chin was having his bachelor party. The group was thrown out and after a heated exchange of words subsequently parted ways. Ebens allegedly instigated the incident by declaring, "It's because of you little motherfuckers that we're out of work!" referring to U.S. auto manufacturing jobs being lost to Japan, despite the fact that Chin was not Japanese.[2] Chin taunted Ebens to keep fighting after they were all thrown out.[5] Ebens and Nitz searched the neighborhood for 20 to 30 minutes and even paid another man 20 dollars to help look for Chin,[6] before finding him at a McDonald'srestaurant. Chin tried to escape, but was held by Nitz while Ebens repeatedly bludgeoned Chin with a baseball bat. Chin was struck at least four times with the bat, including blows to the head. When rushed to Henry Ford Hospital, he was unconscious and died after four days in a coma on June 23, 1982.

Ronald Ebens was arrested and taken into custody at the scene of the murder by two off-duty police officers who had witnessed the beating.[7] Ebens and Nitz were convicted in a county court for manslaughter by Wayne CountyCircuit JudgeCharles Kaufman, after a plea bargain brought the charges down from second-degree murder. They served no jail time, were given three years probation, fined $3,000 and ordered to pay $780 in court costs. In a response letter to protests from American Citizens for Justice, Kaufman said, "These weren't the kind of men you send to jail... You don't make the punishment fit the crime; you make the punishment fit the criminal."[4]

The verdict angered the Asian American community in the Detroit area and around the country.[8] Journalist Helen Zia and lawyer Liza Chan (traditional Chinese: 陳綽薇; simplified Chinese: 陈绰薇; pinyin: Chén Chuòwēi) led the fight for federal charges, which resulted in the men being accused of two counts of violating Chin's civil rights, under section 245 of title 18 of the United States Code. For these charges, it was not enough that Ebens had injured Chin, but that "a substantial motivating factor for the defendant's actions was Mr. Chin's race, color, or national origin, and because Mr. Chin had been enjoying a place of entertainment which serves the public."[9] Because of possible mitigating factors that could lead to reasonable doubt, such as intoxication leading to the defendant's inability to form the specific intent,[10] the prosecution's proving the evidence of uttered racial slurs were not self-sufficient for conviction.[11] In addition, the defense found Racine Colwell, the witness who overheard the "It's because of you motherfuckers we're out of work" remark, to have received some clemency on a jail sentence for a prostitution charge, which suggested that the government might have tried to cut a deal for her testimony.[12]

The 1984 federal civil rights case against the men found Ebens guilty of the second count and sentenced him to 25 years in prison; Nitz was acquitted of both counts. After an appeal, Ebens' conviction was overturned in 1986—a federal appeals court found an attorney improperly coached prosecution witnesses.[13]

After a retrial that was moved to Cincinnati, Ohio due to the publicity the case had received in Detroit, a jury cleared Ebens of all charges in 1987.[14]

A civil suit for the unlawful death of Vincent Chin was settled out of court on March 23, 1987. Michael Nitz was ordered to pay $50,000 in $30 weekly installments over the following 10 years. Ronald Ebens was ordered to pay $1.5 million, at $200/month for the first two years and 25% of his income or $200/month thereafter, whichever was greater. This represented the projected loss of income from Vincent Chin's engineering position, as well as Lily Chin's loss of Vincent's services as laborer and driver. However, the estate of Vincent Chin would not be allowed to garnish social security, disability, or Ebens' pension from Chrysler, nor could the estate place a lien on Ebens' house.[1]

In November 1989, Ebens was forced to reappear in court for a creditor's hearing, where he detailed his finances and reportedly pledged to make good on his debt to the Chin estate.[15] However, in 1997,[16] the Chin estate was forced to renew the civil suit, as it was allowed to do every ten years.[1] With accrued interest and other charges, the adjusted total became $4,683,653.89.[16]

Sometime after the murder, the Fancy Pants strip club closed, and was subsequently torn down.[18]

In September 1987, Chin's mother, Lily Chin, moved from Oak Park back to her hometown of Guangzhou, China, to avoid being reminded of the tragedy. She returned to the United States for medical treatment in late 2001, and died on June 9, 2002. Prior to her death, Lily Chin had established a scholarship in Vincent's memory, to be administered by American Citizens for Justice.[19]

The attack was considered by many a hate crime,[2] but predated hate crime laws in the United States. Nevertheless, during a 1998 House of Representatives hearing on the Hate Crimes Prevention Act of 1997, Congressman John Conyers, Jr. suggested that the problem in making people sufficiently aware of the causes for and injustices of the Vincent Chin case was that it was a political "hot potato" that did not get picked up for "political reasons" with respect to the automobile industry.[20]

Chin's case has been cited by some Asian Americans to support the idea that they are seen as not fully citizens or "perpetual foreigners" compared to "real" Americans.[2][8][21] Lily Chin stated: "What kind of law is this? What kind of justice? This happened because my son is Chinese. If two Chinese killed a white person, they must go to jail, maybe for their whole lives... Something is wrong with this country."[22]

The 2001 book A Day for Vincent Chin and Me by Jacqueline Turner Banks is about a Japanese American child's efforts to slow down the traffic on a residential street in Kentucky, while his parents form a local protest in support of the Chin case.[citation needed]